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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24108613">Halloween AU</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AspiringFanficWriter/pseuds/AspiringFanficWriter'>AspiringFanficWriter</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Halloween Movies - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 00:48:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,766</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24108613</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AspiringFanficWriter/pseuds/AspiringFanficWriter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
      <p>I know her birth name isn’t Laurie but I just did.</p>
    </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Halloween AU</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I know her birth name isn’t Laurie but I just did.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Their parents have not yet come home, even though the clock reads 11 PM, the time his mother had said she’d come back as she tried to give him a hug.</p><p>Michael feels his eyes well up, wet salty tears threatening to spill. He bites his lip to suppress any noise he might make, fearing his sobbing would be too loud.<br/>
He wishes he’d let his mother hug him, now it’s too late to go back. </p><p>The pain in his stomach is starting to feel numb, the blood loss making his head feel dizzy and light. The warm liquid that had spilled past his skin was clumping together and sticking his shirt to him, drying up and leaving him feel colder then before, until more warm blood oozes out.<br/>
He tries to press down harder, he knows that’s supposed to slow it down, he’s seen it in movies. But his arm is getting tired, losing feeling.</p><p>He hears light footsteps come from the porch in front of the bush he’s hiding behind, and he feels his heartbeat quicken and his breathing going erratic. All he can think of  is himself in that moment, and he despises himself for it.<br/>
He doesn’t want to die, but his older sister already had.</p><p>Judith...</p><p>He has to shove a bloodied hand into his mouth to silence the resulting sob that escapes him at the thought of his older sister.<br/>
The thought that he’ll never see her again, never laugh with her or receive her comfort when their mother is too busy to care, which was almost all the time.</p><p>Why? Why her? Why him? </p><p>Why would Laurie do this? His baby sister... </p><p>His head rings painfully in his ears as he’s forced to relieve the events again, even if they had just happened minutes ago.</p><p>-</p><p>He had been drawing in his room, not really paying much attention to the noise outside. He had to learn how to block out noise pretty early on in his life, when his father wouldn’t stop yelling and insulting everyone every chance he got, it quickly got tiresome.<br/>
Even if he did feel bad for Judith when their own father would make gross comments, there wasn’t much he could do.<br/>
There wasn’t much anyone could do when their parents get into fights, yelling and sometimes hitting each other. </p><p>Michael tried to keep his distance from his father, because no matter what he did or said, it was never enough. It always ended badly and he would rather not deal with any of it if he could.</p><p>So when he hears his sister scream, his first thought is that maybe she got into a fight with their dad. A little weird, since he hadn’t heard the sound of the car pull up into their driveway, but he probably just hadn’t paid attention.</p><p>But then he hears whimpers and strained cries for help, they sound weak and pained.<br/>
And it’s coming from just outside, in the hallway.</p><p>Michael gets a dreadful feeling in the pit of his stomach, like he just knows it’s something bad before he even gets a chance to see what’s happening.<br/>
He puts his sketch book and pen down, slowly and unsurely.</p><p>His bedroom door creaks open and he peeks out, gasping as he sees Judith limping down the hallway, her nightgown covered in blood. </p><p>She sees her baby brother and her eyes widen, first with relief but it quickly turns into dread. A shaky and bloody hand reach out to him and two words come weakly out of her mouth before her body goes limp on the floor with a wet thud.</p><p>“Run Michael...” </p><p>His heart beats against his ribs like a hammer, his mouth goes dry and his throat closes up. He feels like he’s frozen as he stared down at his sister, unmoving with her eyes still open with dread and fear.</p><p>He’s too preoccupied with trying to process the fact he just saw his older sister collapse in a heap of blood right in front of him to notice the tiny figure approach him.<br/>
By the time he feels the cold and dangerously sharp steel penetrate his abdomen it’s already too late. </p><p>Michael gasps and cries out in agony as the feeling of his flesh getting poked open and his insides prodded at registers, his hands shoot up to the wound in reflex, his fingers get coated in his warm, fresh blood immediately.<br/>
It pours out of him like a fountain, spilling past his fingers and down his forearm, dripping on the floor and soaking his shirt.</p><p>He stares wide eyed at the assailant, only to see his other sister. </p><p>She’s wearing her clown mask, and carrying a large kitchen knife. It looks out of place for such a small individual, and at first glance he wouldn’t think it was her, but he knows it’s her. </p><p>Because he made her that mask, and she never let anyone else touch it.</p><p>Laurie raises the knife again, ready to strike down her other sibling with no remorse.<br/>
But Michaels survival instinct kick in, even before the shock wears off and he kicks her as hard as he can, right in her thigh. </p><p>She doesn’t make a single sound but she does fall to the floor, dropping the large knife which stops her from stabbing him again. Michael doesn’t really know what he expected, but he didn’t think she’d get over it so fast, and before he has time to think over the fact he just kicked his six year old sister, she’s already back on her feet.</p><p>As she goes to pick the knife back up, Michael turns the other way and runs.<br/>
His stomach burns like hell, and makes the running feel more like he’s stumbling but he tries to ignore it as he throws every door he can closed behind him. </p><p>He catches a glimpse of the clock on the wall, and sees that his parents should be home, or at least coming home right about now.<br/>
In a split second decision he makes his way for the main door, which leads outside.</p><p>But there’s no car there. </p><p>Michael winces and groans as he feels himself losing more blood, the wound almost feeling like it’s widening from the running. He sees a large bush on the side of the stairs and sluggishly stumbles for it, hoping it’ll grant him some cover in case Laurie comes outside.</p><p>He’s older, and stronger then his younger sister. But she had a large knife, and he’s already starting to feel like he’s going to lose consciousness. He wonders if she hit any vital organs and that’s why he’s already feeling like he’s going to pass out, or if it’s just because he’s weak.</p><p>Michael starts to feel his limbs go cold and the edges of his vision go darker, he’s about to just let it happen until he hears a car pull up beside the house. He strains to see, but it’s clearly his mother that exists the car, a confused and concerned look across her features as she keeps her eyes on the stairs in front of the house.</p><p>Michael gets a surge of adrenaline, and pushes himself up using all the remaining strength he has left. He grunts and sobs at the pain but pushes through it, determined to make it to his mother. </p><p>He sees his little sister just standing there, knife still in hand. She stands motionless, a dark aura surrounds her short body but even as Michael makes his presence known, she does not move. She doesn’t even look his way.</p><p>His mother sees him and her attention immediately shifts to her bleeding son. She rushes over and catches him as his legs give out, she frantically shouts that they need to call an ambulance as she holds his face and asks him if he’s okay in a scared voice. </p><p>The burst of strength that Michael had felt was quickly disappearing once he felt the safe embrace of his mother, and his vision goes fuzzy and dark.<br/>
He hears his mother beg him to stay with her, and he tries to, he really does.</p><p>But the blood loss refuses to let him stay conscious for much longer and he passes out, the darkness consuming him.</p><p>When he comes to, his eyes squint at the brightness of the room. It’s completely white all around him, the dull and continuous sound of a beeping heart monitor by his side makes it quickly apparent that he’s in a hospital. </p><p>Michael tries to sit up but feels his stomach protest the movement with a bolt of searing pain.<br/>
He whimpers and lays back down, trying to keep as still as possible to avoid feeling that again.</p><p>He looks around the room and sees that he’s alone.</p><p>His heart starts to beat faster, the beeping on the monitor picks up the elevated pace and starts beeping faster along with it. </p><p>Is he dead?</p><p>Michael doesn’t even realize he’s hyperventilating until the door swings open and a nurse comes in, softly telling him to breathe and calm down.<br/>
He tries to do as she says, but he feels too overwhelmed to manage even something so simple as breathing normally.</p><p>He feels tears prickle in the corner of his eyes, he’s confused and scared, he doesn’t know what happened, where his mother is or if he’s even still alive.<br/>
It’s painful and stressful and he doesn’t know how to handle it.</p><p>The nurse quickly explains that his mother is here, just currently talking with the doctor in charge of him. She says she can go get her, but that he needs to calm down first.</p><p>The mention of his mother helps, and Michael manages to even his breathing out a little.</p><p>The nurse disappears out of the door once he has calmed down enough, and it doesn’t take long before his mother burst in.</p><p>She looks tired and unwashed. Her hair is a tangled mess and her eyes look puffy and red, like she’s been crying non stop for a long time.<br/>
She hiccups and sobs when she sees him, and doesn’t waste a second before she comes close and pulls him into a warm hug.</p><p>Michael wants to hug back, but thoughts of what happened last time he’d been in his mother’s arms flashed past his mind and he felt himself stiffen.</p><p>“You’re awake... oh baby, I was so worried about you.” She whispers into his dirty blonde hair and kisses the top of his head. She takes a hold of his hand and asks him if he needs anything, any water or food.</p><p>Michael mutters out a small and barely audible ‘water’. His throat feels dry and water definitely would be good. </p><p>He doesn’t want to eat anything. His stomach still sore, both physically and emotionally he felt drained, he just wanted to sink into the floor for a few years until he pain in his heart would go away.</p><p>But he knew that wasn’t possible.<br/>
He just feels the pain grow as he recalls more and more of the last night he remembers before ending up here.</p><p>Michael tries to hide the small sobs from his mother when she gets water from the tap in the room, and is relieved when she doesn’t notice.<br/>
His mother strokes his hair softly as she hands him the water.</p><p>It’s somewhat lukewarm but Michael gulps it down quickly anyway, the liquid falling down his throat giving the roughness some much needed soothing. </p><p>“Everything will be fine Michael... we’ll get through this.” His mother speaks softly, but he can hear her voice crack and she looks on the edge of tears. Her blonde hair falling in front of her face as she looks down, trying to stay strong for the only child still really with her.</p><p>He wants to believe her. He really does want to, he tries to. He tries so hard.<br/>
But deep down in his heart he knows, that nothing can ever be fine again. </p><p>~~~~~~~~</p><p>Michaels mother visits Laurie once a week.</p><p>He’s never gone with her, sometimes he thinks he wants to. He thinks he wants to see his baby sister, at least one more time. </p><p>Then he feels it again, the blade in his still healing abdomen.<br/>
The blood oozing out of him and into the wood floor.<br/>
He feels that fear again. The fear that he’s going to die, die like Judith.</p><p>And Michael just can’t.</p><p>He can’t see her, because it’s too hard. He can’t face her, he doesn’t want to see her ever again. He doesn’t care that Doctor Loomis insists that he should see her, that it could help her and that he should do it because she’s his sister.</p><p>He knows fully well that Laurie is his sister. </p><p>That’s what makes the hurt so much worse. </p><p>Every time someone tries to get him to see Laurie, it becomes a struggle. He’ll refuse again and again, if they don’t give up he’ll eventually give in and get in the car with his mother.<br/>
Only to have a panic attack as they arrive at the mental institution.</p><p>Those are becoming more frequent. Michael hates it so much, the feeling of his chest tightening and the difficulty breathing reminds him too much of that night. </p><p>The doctors say it’s because he still has trauma, whatever that means.<br/>
They say he needs healthy ways to move forward and cope with what happened.</p><p>Michael doesn’t understand what they’re trying to say, at first at least.<br/>
They explain that coping is when someone who is in pain find ways to make it hurt less, so that life will be easier again.</p><p>That’s what he wants. To make the hurt less. </p><p>They give suggestions. Michael tries most of them, but nothing helps, most only make him stressed out and feel even worse.</p><p>Michael feels like everything is just worse, his mother can tell. She needs to be around more and it’s taking a toll on her, to have to see Laurie in that mental institution and Michaels regular panic attacks.</p><p>Michael notices that his mother isn’t doing well.<br/>
Her visits to Laurie grows further apart and she seems more haggard and tired.<br/>
He knows it’s because he can’t find ways to help himself, that it’s his fault she’s not doing good.</p><p>He feels disgusted with himself for causing his mother so much pain when she already has so much to deal with.</p><p>But he can’t do anything about it, at least that’s what he thought, until he finally found a way to make that pain that had hung heavy in his heart for so many months lessen. Not go away, that seemed impossible, but make it number.</p><p>Michael smiles for the first time since the incident, because finally his mother won’t have to stress herself out because of him. Finally she can be free of one burden, and he can take away some of the pain for both of them.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p> </p><p>“Please Michael... just eat it.” His mothers pleads as she pushes the plate towards him, but her words fall on deaf ears, again.<br/>
Michael wants to make her happy, but he can’t do what she wants. Not like this.</p><p>She sighs and buries her face into her hands, her messy blonde hair falling down her face and shoulders. She rubs her forehead like she’s frustrated with him.<br/>
And if she was, Michael would understand that, it must be hard for her to just recently get him back home from the fourth time he’s been in the hospital just this year.</p><p>He knows it’s bad, he’s known that ever since the second time he was rushed to the hospital after fainting and hitting his head on a rock three years ago.<br/>
He knows it’s bad, he knows he looks like a bag of bones, he knows it could potentially ruin his organs, but it’s all he knows anymore.</p><p>Michael sits straight like a rod in his seat, refusing to slouch over even as his body lethargy tries to lure him into doing it. He pushes the plate away from him, not saying a single word other then the customary ones he always utters to her during meal times.</p><p>“...not hungry...” His voice is quiet and restrained, just loud enough for her to hear.<br/>
She’s used to that being what he tells her, but it doesn’t make it easier for her as she watches her now 13 year old son leave the table without having taken a single bite of the food she tried to give him.</p><p>Michael leaves the kitchen and walks up the stairs to his room, he wants to make his mother happy but he can’t eat what she wanted him too. It was too many calories in just a single meal, besides he wasn’t even that thin, he knows it could be worse. He’s seen some of the girls in inpatient after all. He wasn’t sick like them, just coping the best way he knew how.</p><p>Even so, he knows his mother feels differently. He knows she cares, but the way she tries to force food down his throat while saying he’s good the way he is without losing weight isn’t helping much. It definitely doesn’t help when she asks him if he wishes he was dead.<br/>
Of course he doesn’t, he just knows that restriction and weight loss is something that helps him feel better. Helps him not have panic attacks over everything.</p><p>He knows if he gives into her pleads the hurt would come back and the numbness would leave. </p><p>He can’t handle that.</p><p>He hears his mother start to cry just as he closes the bedroom door. And Michael bites his lips, he feels bad about her being upset but he can’t stop.</p><p>But it is the fourth time this year... Michael supposes he can handle maintaining if it’ll make his mother happier. It’s not the ideal weight, but he’d been discharged before the doctors could put on anything significant.</p><p>Michael isn’t particularly fond of the idea, it’s better when he’s losing because his focus is solely on that, no time to think of anything that might provoke painful memories. But as long as he keeps restricting and counting maybe he’ll still be too preoccupied to let his mind wander... He’ll try at least, for her.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Michael doesn’t witness it, but he’s the one who discovers the body. </p><p>The living room was dark, the blinds were closed and the lights were off. The only light came from other rooms around it, and the TV playing home movies of their family.<br/>
On the couch was his mother, a gun in her limp hand.<br/>
She was slouched over, blood dripping from her mouth and out the back of her head, her pale lifeless body already gone cold when her only son discovers her.</p><p>Michael feels the pain come back, the pain he tries so hard to keep suppressed everyday. He’s alone for some time, a broken teenager that nobody really wants to deal with, or can deal with. </p><p>The Orphanage and more hospitals are basically the only places he goes to anymore, regularly alternating between them.<br/>
With no one to get him discharged early from the hospital anymore, they’ll force him to gain weight, with tubes and injections alike. </p><p>Michael will hate it and lash out, cry and get frustrated. But he can’t do anything about it.</p><p>Then they let him go and he goes back to the orphanage, where nobody cares if he doesn’t eat and stays up late to exercise off the extra fat.<br/>
No one there cares, even though it’s the same thing that happens after just a few months free of the hospital before he’s back again.</p><p>It’s exhausting, but it’s his coping. And he can’t stop, he needs it or he’ll break.</p><p>He’s surprised when the Strode family says they want to adopt him. Even after the orphanage explain everything that has happened since he got there.<br/>
The woman, whose name is Cynthia, only gives him a sympathetic smile and tells him she hopes he’ll feel better in a new home.</p><p>And he does, kind of. After a while at least.</p><p>Cynthia treats him like her own, never judging and always kind. He appreciates it, the warmth feels welcoming, but not the same warmth his real mother could give.<br/>
It does feel good though, even if it feels odd being back in haddonfield after being in the orphanage.</p><p>He gets a hair cut, after years of long mostly unkempt hair, it felt good to have it shorter.<br/>
His once dirty blonde hair color had turned darker, into a more brownish shade. His soft and shorter locks felt a little brittle when he ran his fingers through, but otherwise seemed relatively in good shape.</p><p>After a while with them, he starts to feel more safe, happier. It’s not a significant difference, but it’s enough to push him to make an effort to at least not be hospitalized anymore. Even if it did happen if he went too far for too long, he really did try to find a middle ground.<br/>
He doesn’t want to be separated from the first people in a while that actually cares.</p><p>~~~~~~</p><p>It’s been over half a year since Michael saw his adoptive family, having to leave for school was difficult at first, but he pushed through. He was 23 years by now after all, he could handle himself. </p><p>Yet, he knows he hasn’t been doing that well recently. Stress around school and being alone hadn’t done any miracles with his mental health, and he was worried it would be obvious to Cynthia. </p><p>Michael feels a shiver go down his spine, he looks around him in reflex and for a moment he almost thinks he sees someone looking at him go behind some bushes.<br/>
Odd, but probably nothing. He might just be stressed out about behind back, it’s been a while after all.</p><p>He shrugs off the weird feeling and approaches the Strode house, his heart feels a little heavy as he softly knocks on the door. </p><p>Mason opens the door, he looks a little tired with slight bags under his eyes and a drawn down expression. His eyes light up when he sees his adoptive son and he instantly smiles as he pulls Michael into the house.</p><p>“Michael, it’s so good to see you again my boy. But you know you don’t have to knock, right?” Mason teases, but it has no malice or signs that he’s actually upset with Michael for knocking. </p><p>“I know, sorry.” Michael sheepishly mutters, almost straining to talk loud enough to be heard, out of habit of talking very quietly. A bad trait he’s still trying to unlearn.</p><p>Mason only shakes his head and brings Michael into a sort of half hug, still the affection through his touch is strongly felt.<br/>
He calls out for Cynthia, and at the mention of Michaels name he can hear her hurrying down from upstairs, dropping whatever it was she had been doing.</p><p>She came into the hallway with a smile, her eyes held that familiar warmth Michael had missed so much.<br/>
She doesn’t waste a second pulling him into a hug, but she stiffens during the middle of it, slowly pushing away while keeping her hands on his arms.</p><p>Her smile falters into a small frown, wrinkles crinkling at her brows as they draw together in concern.<br/>
“Oh god... There’s even less of you.” She factually states, her tone saddened and worried. </p><p>Michael feels his emotions spike, and wishes she could just not have noticed and put a dent in that warm moment on happiness for something he didn’t think was that importance.<br/>
He bites his lip and pushes her away a little, not wanting to have this conversation all over again.</p><p>“I’m fine.” Michael huffs out, somewhat defensively. He knew she might act this way if she noticed his relapse into old habits, but to be fair he never really stopped either, he only restricted less extremely for a while. So was it really a relapse?<br/>
Not that he’d ever tell her that, he knows that would hurt her to know.</p><p>Cynthia narrows her eyes and stares him down, taking a hold of his wrists and checking them. Her expression gets even more knitted in worry and she opens her mouth to say something else, but Mason butted in.</p><p>“Let’s not do this right now, yeah?” Mason places a hand on his wife’s shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. She looks at him somewhat disapprovingly, but she sighs and gives in with a nod and a sad smile.</p><p>“Your room is still the same, if you’re tired after traveling you can take a nap. We can catch up later.” Cynthia says, her voice is warm again, but Michael doesn’t neglect to notice that the twinge of worry in her tone is still there. </p><p>He mumbles a thanks and gives her another hug before heading up to his room, the old stairs creak softly beneath him with each step. </p><p>His room really was still the same as when he’d left, the things he’d left behind still there, dusted and clean but otherwise untouched. Michael smiles to himself, a fuzzy tingling goes through his body as he lays down on his bed, knowing he’s back home after a harsh year mostly alone.</p><p>His limbs and body are receptive to the soft bed, already sinking into the mattress begging Michael to lay still this time.<br/>
But despite his lethargy, he never was able to stay still for long unless he’s actually going to sleep. </p><p>Getting up is hard, his body is heavy like gravity is trying to pull him back down onto the bed. He groans when he pulls himself back on his legs, part of him wanted to lay back down but another didn’t.</p><p>He still hadn’t unpacked his stuff yet anyway. </p><p>He opens his bag and takes out some clothes and puts them in the drawer, his books on the shelves and as he finds the small ornate wolf statue he got for last Christmas, he decides it would look nice in the window.</p><p>Placing it there turns out to look just as nice as he thought, and Michael takes a moment to admire the way the sunlight hits the white marble, giving off a nice shining affect. </p><p>Looking away from the small statue and outside into the neighborhood, Michael nearly gasps when he sees someone on the inside of their fence, staring straight up at him.<br/>
It was a tall figure, a woman with messy blonde hair and an emotionless white mask covering her face. She wore blue coveralls, but he could see her muscular form through the fabric. </p><p>Michael feels himself freeze as he locked eyes with the woman, he couldn’t see her eyes but he knew, he could feel it. The imposing and creepy figure continues to stare at him before she moves away, disappearing behind the fence without breaking eye contact. </p><p>Michael crosses his arms over his abdomen in a self comforting manner, that eerie feeling consumes him and he considers telling his family about what he had seen.<br/>
Would they even believe him if he told them some tall muscular woman in a creepy mask was staring at him through the window?</p><p>He tries to shrug his concern off, but the cold feeling of her eyes staring up at him still lingered on his skin. Michael doesn’t think he could sleep now anyway, and heads back downstairs, hoping the closeness of his adoptive family could bring some comfort.</p><p>Michael came into the living room to see Cynthia and Mason on the couch talking together about something he couldn’t focus on, with that woman still on his mind.</p><p>“Back with us already?” Mason smiled at Michael and patted the empty space on the couch next to him with his hand, signaling for him to sit down.</p><p>“Yeah, not really tired.” Michael mumbled, still not quite there. Cynthia noticed something was off almost immediately, of course she did.</p><p>“Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She asked, her eyebrows knitting together again as she moved to face him more clearly.</p><p>Michael should probably tell her about that woman, but for some reason he decided not to. It could’ve just been his imagination or even some kind of stupid prank.</p><p>“I’m just... stressed.” It wasn’t a lie, just not the whole truth.<br/>
Cynthia stroked his hair in a motherly manner as she told him it’s okay to be stressed and that they’re there for him. </p><p>“I’m going to go for a walk or something.” Michael tells them as he starts to get up from the couch. He was probably going for a run to be honest, but that always helped calm his nerves so maybe it would help now too.</p><p>Mason gives him a look but nods and Cynthia tells him to stay safe and come back before it gets too late. </p><p>“Yeah I’ll be careful.” Is all Michael says before stepping out the door, glancing back at his adoptive parents once more before closing it behind him.</p><p>~~~~</p><p>It was dark when Michael came back home.<br/>
He knew he shouldn’t have been gone for so long but he had gotten distracted by seeing all the familiar places in Haddonfield again, and time had flown by in the process.</p><p>He opened up the door and went inside, quietly closing the door again as he hung up his jacket. Michael kept his focus solely on what he was currently doing, paying to mind to the environment around him.</p><p>Usually when anyone comes inside Cynthia will say something to welcome them, so when there is only silence that greets him, Michael find it odd.<br/>
He looks around and notices that the living room looks trashed, lamps were on the floor and chairs were kicked over.</p><p>There was blood staining the carpet.</p><p>Michaels heart dropped and he shakily walked towards the blood, silently praying it wasn’t what he thought it was.</p><p>He couldn’t help the scream that escaped him when he saw the corpse of Cynthia propped up against the cabinet, blood pooling under her.<br/>
Her eyes were still open, devoid of any life but clearly a look of terror in the irises that would be there forever.<br/>
She had wounds on her chest and stomach, stab wounds that penetrated through her clothes and skin and snuffed her life away.</p><p>Michael sobbed at the sight of his adoptive mother, his worst fears coming true all over again. He couldn’t lose another family, not again.</p><p>Too preoccupied with crying over the loss of another parental figure, Michael doesn’t notice a shape in the shadows of the room, menacingly coming towards him with slow and heavy steps. </p><p>It could’ve been luck, it could’ve been his instinct kicking in just in time. Regardless of what it was, right before the large kitchen knife came crashing down on him to deal Michael the same fate as his adoptive mother, he turned around to see the same woman from earlier and moved out of the way just in time.</p><p>Michael shrieked as the large steely knife went right into the carpet and floorboards beneath, going through the wood with an considerable amount of force. He looked at the woman that was now much more clearly larger then him in both height and size for only a second before scrambling away.</p><p>He runs for the door only to find it locked, in a panic he turns to go for the backdoor only to see the woman blocking the only way to it. Her rigid posture facing him, stiff but determined steps already coming in his direction with the knife held tightly in her hand.</p><p>Michael curses internally and stumbles up the stairs instead, knowing it could end up with being trapped but also knowing it was either that or getting stabbed right then and there. </p><p>The heavy footsteps of the woman follows up the stairs, agonizingly slow compared to Michaels own rapid steps. </p><p>He’s not sure where to go, what to do. What can he do?<br/>
He runs as far as he can, to the opposite side of the stairs, his parents room. </p><p>He pushes himself into the room and has to bite down on his tongue when he sees Mason sprawled on the double sized bed, blood soaking into the sheets and dripping onto the floor. </p><p>Michael feels more tears fall from his eyes, the sight sending nauseating waves through his body and making his legs into what felt like jello. His lungs burn with exhaustion and fear, he wants to scream out in grief and sadness but knows he can’t.</p><p>He needs to find something to use as a weapon, anything, something sharp something blunt he didn’t care, he just needed something.<br/>
Frantically looking around the room, trying to avoid looking at Mason for too long as his eyes scan the environment.</p><p>The toolbox.</p><p>Masons toolbox is in the corner, where it usually is.<br/>
Michael nearly trips over nothing as he hurried to it, struggling to open the rusty box with shaky hands. </p><p>A screwdriver. It’s rusty and a little dirty but Michael grabs the handle and brings it close to his chest, the small but sharp object barely bringing any amount of safety.</p><p>Michael hears those slow and heavy steps come closer and closer to the room, the sound of metal scraping against the railing echoes off the walls outside.</p><p>He fumbles through the darkness of the room over to the closet, the suits, jackets and dresses belonging to Cynthia and Mason hung so much heavier on the hangers then they had before.<br/>
Michael crawls inside the closet, pushing against the wall as close as he possibly could. </p><p>He places a hand over his mouth to silence his breathing when the bedroom door creaks open.<br/>
Through the small holes of the closet doors, Michael could see the tall woman walking inside. She tilted her head once at Mason before disregarding the fact he was there completely. </p><p>His blood pumps though his veins as fast as lightning, the ringing in his ears dies down for a deafening silence as he sees the masked woman turns her head to the closet.<br/>
Michaels body shudders and shakes as she takes one step after another, closer and closer to him.</p><p>She stops right outside the closet door, the black sockets of the mask staring straight ahead. Then, she lifts her left hand, slowly taking a grip around the edge of her white mask.<br/>
Michael almost looks away when she takes it off, expecting someone disfigured or broken beneath.</p><p>What he sees instead makes him wish he had.</p><p>The face under the mask is only visible for a second, but one second is all it takes for Michael to get a good look.<br/>
Her face is near emotionless, lips drawn into a straight line, neither a frown or a smile. Her skin looks close to flawless, almost no wrinkles or lines around their eyes or mouth, like she has never emoted in her life.</p><p>Her eyes look dead, the blank look reflecting off them was almost inhuman. He could see the irises lookin his direction, even through the door.</p><p>But none of that mattered, because Michael recognized her. Even after all these years he knew her, saw who she was.<br/>
Someone he thought he’d never see again.</p><p>Michael doesn’t have time to come to terms with it though, because she puts on the mask as fast as she took it off. She raises the knife and stabs it through the fragile doors, ripping it apart and tearing it open.</p><p>Michael chokes out a sound that was close to what was a mix of a sob and a shriek. </p><p>She sticks her head in and looks at him, her dark aura and murderous gaze closing in around him.<br/>
Michael forces his fears to fuck off for just a moment as he remembers he still has the screwdriver. Grinding his teeth together he thinks of everyone in his life he’s lost so far, and in that moment, he refuses to be part of the body pile. </p><p>He refuses to just lay down and die. After all the pain she has put him through...</p><p>Gripping the handle tighter, he springs from the wall and lodges the sharp object right into the open hole of the left eye. He pushes it as deep as he can muster, the handle going closer and closer to the face of his attacker.<br/>
The large woman stumbles back, she makes no sound but falls to the floor in a large heap.</p><p>Michael lets out a shuddering breath, his whole frame shakes. He just stabbed her, and she looks fucking dead.</p><p>“Oh my god...” Michaels voice breaks, he wobbly and shaky steps away from the woman, trying to get away from it but he doesn’t make it far.<br/>
The reality of it all crashes down on him like a bag of bricks, forcing his body to gravitate towards the floor as he slides down the wall.</p><p>Michael finally screams. It isn’t out of fear, not the type someone makes when they see something that terrifies them.</p><p>No.</p><p>This scream was one of emotional agony, years of pain he’d struggled to suppress was resurfacing, coming back to claw and rip at him, to drag him down back into that dark pit. </p><p>Michael rips at his hair, bites at his clothes, screams more. He just wants the pain to be gone, but it just gets stronger.</p><p>Once his lungs burn out, no longer able to make the sounds that expresses his agonizing emotional state, he cries.<br/>
He cries and sobs and cries more.</p><p>His own tears and choked up wailing drowns out everything else, he doesn’t hear the front door open, he doesn’t hear the rustling behind him.</p><p>When the loud bang of gunshots ring out through the room Michael nearly jumps out of his skin, he makes a strangled shout of surprise and looks towards the sound only to come face to face with another person he hadn’t seen in years.</p><p>“Doctor Loomis...?” Michael chokes out. He never liked the man that much, but seeing another person had never felt so amazing as it did right now.</p><p>Loomis had his gun raised, looking into the bedroom with a focused and hardened gaze. He looks down at Michael and his eyes soften slightly, but doesn’t lose that gruff and tired look either.</p><p>“Are you okay?” He asks in an informal tone, like he was actually concerned. Loomis steps closer to the still crying Michael and stretches out a hand for him to take.<br/>
Michael shakily takes the Doctor up on his offer, holding on to the doorframe for support.</p><p>“I-I don’t... why is she-?” Michael tried to ask, he tried to find out why but his body wasn’t cooperating.</p><p>Loomis puts a hand on Michaels shoulder.<br/>
“You don’t have to worry anymore, she’s gone.” He says as he walks into the bedroom.</p><p>Michaels eyes follow the Doctor, noticing that Laurie wasn’t in the bedroom anymore and that the large window had been broken. Loomis goes over to the window and looks down, his shoulders tense but Michael can’t see his facial expression well enough to know what he’s thinking.</p><p>When he turns back around, his face looks sullen and upset, but Michael didn’t have the energy to ask him. He just wanted this to be over, for it to be true that she was gone.</p><p>Loomis Leads Michael outside, where multiple police cars and an ambulance were parked. Michael felt exposed and weird, but he just squeezed his eyes shut and let himself be led to the ambulance. He stayed still as they checked him over and asked questions he was too out of it to answer. </p><p>When they started to put bandages around his arms he was slightly surprised, he didn’t realize he’d been stabbed... or had he? He wasn’t sure.<br/>
Did it matter? The people he cared about were gone again, yet he got to live... again.</p><p>Michael would cry, but it feels like all the tears he had in him have already been shed. He just sits there, shuddering and shaking, trying to forget and understand all at once.</p><p>As he gets driven to the hospital, he feels that same eerie feeling of being watched. And deep inside his heart, he knows it isn’t over. </p><p>No matter how much he wishes it was.</p>
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